New Lives
by WhiteFires
Summary: Merlin has been waiting hundreds of years for Arthur to return to the world, living alone and isolated. Each day he keeps an eye on the Lake of Avalon, hoping that the day will come when his king emerges from its waters again. What he doesn't realise is that Arthur isn't the only one returning.
1. The Waiting

_So, it's been a while, sorry about that. There have probably been loads of modern day reincarnations fics recently, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head, and then I told a friend about it and she gave me tons of encouragement to write this. I was going to wait until I'd already written a few chapters before posting the story, but I guess I didn't really want to wait to hear what people thought of it._

_With regards to my other story, Fate Keeps Us Apart, I'm not sure what's going to happen to it. I've lost my muse for it so it might be discontinued. I feel that I haven't done Mordred's character justice and it has a lot of continuity problems. At first I told myself that I'd lay off the longer stories for a while and post some one-shots before working on a multichapter. That didn't work. This story will be a multichapter, but it won't be huge. That said, I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

The waiting was the worst part. In fact it just so happened to be the only part. All he ever did all day was wait. His days were spent by wandering around the Lake of Avalon, keeping an eye on its waters just in case. He needn't have bothered though. For the past thousand years he needn't have bothered. Nothing had happened yet.

They had said it would happen someday. There would come a time when Albion would need the Once and Future King again and Arthur would live once more, this day had not happened yet though, and it almost seemed like it never would.

When Arthur had first died and Kilgarrah told him that he would live again, Merlin had thought that he would die at an old age and be born into a younger body. It seemed that the world had other plans for him.

It took him a while before he realised that he wasn't ageing. Just a few months after Arthur's death he had been rubbing his chin wondering why he didn't grow stubble any more. That was when his suspicions started, but it wasn't for another few years before he knew completely: he wasn't ageing anymore. In fact, he hadn't aged since the day Arthur died.

The reality of what was going to happen came to him one day when Gaius fell over while he was working in his chambers. The physician was growing old, it was getting increasingly hard for him to walk and it seemed he only had a few more years in that world. As Merlin watched his mentor fall, using magic to soften his impact, he suddenly realised that he was going to be forced to watch the deaths of all his remaining friends and family. One day, Gaius, Hunith, Gwen, Leon and Percival would all be dead, and he would be alone. The truth had come to him so suddenly that he almost broke down where he was. The fact that one day he would walk the earth alone was almost too much to think about. So instead he didn't think about it, and tried to spend as much time with his friends as he could. Once he noticed that his mother wasn't getting any younger either, he took more time off to see her.

Gwen didn't mind, she had long ago guessed that he wasn't ageing, and understood that he was going through a bad time. However, despite his troubles he made the most of what he had while he still had it.

Under Gwen's rule, magic had been returned to the land and he had been made court sorcerer. It was the Albion he had always dreamed of: sorcerers were allowed to live peacefully inside Camelot and magic roamed free. Gwen had even managed to make a treaty with all the other kingdoms to form Albion; before "Albion" had just been a word to describe the kingdoms, now it was real. Although it was still divided into kingdoms ruled by different people, they all lived in harmony and worked together to try to create a new world. In the name of Arthur, Gwen had brought peace to the lands. Even so, she had managed to put most of the glory on Merlin's shoulders. He had been hailed as a hero for killing Morgana, and the people almost feared him now they knew he was a sorcerer. His friends still thought of him the same though, they now knew that beneath the clumsy manservant there was a powerful sorcerer (or as he preferred it: warlock), but they treated him the same as they always did.

All this had disappeared eventually though. The first to go was Gaius. He lived for another six years after Arthur died, before finally dying peacefully in his sleep, at an age which was a great achievement for the time. In later years, Gwen sometimes wondered if Merlin was using magic to prolong their lives as much as he could. However, not even all the magic in the world can stop death completely.

Hunith was next. During one particularly harsh winter, Merlin spent some months away from Camelot looking after her. She was about seventy years old by this point, her body frail and barely able to cope with the cold. Merlin slept on the floor next to her bed every night, using magic to warm her up. At one point she told him to leave her and make small fires in the houses of all the other people in Ealdor so no one would freeze to death. He did so and although he had created a lingering fire to warm her, by the time he returned she was shivering badly. In the end and despite his magic, the cold was too much for her and she left in the early hours of the morning. He only stayed long enough to give her a proper burial. He never returned there.

Percival and Leon stayed in Camelot as knights. They both found wives and had children, although Percival left often to keep Saxons away from Albion. He always volunteered for these missions, and Merlin thought that it was his way of trying to make up for what happened to Gwaine. He never seemed to have got over it. Then one day, around the time that Hunith died, he didn't come back. No one ever found out what happened to him; some said that he had been killed by a Saxon, and others said he had deserted. Nobody truly believed the later though. Percival was not one to run away from anything.

Leon usually stayed near the queen's side, especially as he became older. In time he became more of an advisor to her than anything else, having known her since they were children he was the one person left in Camelot she had known for the longest. Eventually, she had him leading her army. He retired from being a knight once he reached a ripe age and became a member of her council. He died at a good age, unlike so many of his fellow knights.

Of Merlin's friends, Gwen was last to go. For a few years he had been afraid of becoming too attached to people and so he had distanced himself from others he didn't already know. He became known as quite elusive because of this and some of the people stopped trusting him. Gwen never lost her faith however; she knew why he was doing it, even if he never admitted it.

For years he had been disguising the fact that he didn't age. At the time of Gwen's death, he resembled how he did when he first disguised himself as an old man.

When Gwen lay on her death bed, she had been reigning for over fifty years. Despite this and all that she achieved, she had never remarried and had no heir to succeed her. In her last moments, she handed the royal seal to Merlin and said slowly, "I have no heir, no one to succeed me. I trust that you can find someone suitable … Merlin? I think we should look at each other properly, no disguises."

Merlin let the glamour hiding his youthful features fall, and she smiled to see what he truly looked like after so many years.

"Unfair," she joked. "Was I one of the only few to actually get wrinkles?"

When he didn't answer she said, "Merlin. Smile."

He weakly turned up the corners of his mouth in a fairly pathetic attempt, however Gwen seemed happy.

"I can't remember the last time you did that," she said, smiling herself. "You look after yourself. And tell Arthur that I miss him very much. I hope … I _know_ that we'll meet again someday."

He didn't have the heart to remind her that he was immortal. Those were the last words she ever said and the last words a friend spoke to him for a very long time.

After her death he travelled the lands in search of a worthy king, but in his opinion none he met along the way even came close to what Arthur had been. After his search was over, he didn't return to Camelot. Instead he travelled to the Valley of the Fallen Kings where he entered the Crystal Cave. Some say that he never came out and most believed that he was dead. No one knew what really became of him. No one knew why he went in there. No one knew that he returned to the Lake of Avalon in his true form. Each day he would watch the lake, never straying for more than a few miles from its shores. For a few months he slept rough, not once with a roof over his head, and when winter came he constructed a hut with all his basic needs.

For three hundred years he stayed by the shores, only very rarely speaking to people. In that time he recounted every day he had spent in Camelot, even though it hurt him more than he could say. In those three hundred years he changed more than any person can, yet in some ways he never changed at all. He became reclusive, barely speaking, and rarely the clumsy idiot people thought he used to be. Yet at the same time he never once wavered in the duty he had been set. He stayed loyal to Arthur and his destiny every day. At least he did for three hundred years.

There came a day when he looked at the lake and couldn't do it anymore. The years had driven him almost to insanity. He had watched each of his friends' die, along with countless others he didn't even know. Camelot was no longer Camelot, only a small piece of Albion. The peace that Gwen had brought no longer existed; war had broken out, and not just with the Saxons. Brother fought brother, father fought son. Death was rife in the land, and although he was used to it, Merlin just couldn't take it anymore. He didn't want to wait for Arthur to live again; he just wanted to see the people he cared about again. There was only one way to do that.

In the early morning, just as dawn was breaking, Merlin waded out into the lake. He then submerged himself and took a lungful of water into his body. Yet trying to drown himself didn't work, because as soon as he did so he felt a pair of hands pushing him back out onto the shore. It seemed that someone didn't want him to die.

From that day on, he never once thought of doing anything like that again. Not even for another eleven hundred years.

After his time of weakness he watched three kings fight for the right to rule over England, he saw the Normans defeat the Saxons, and he saw the Doomsday Book being written. He saw the Magna Carta being signed, he watched the War of the Roses form a distance, and he survived the Black Death and the Great Fire of London in consecutive years. He saw the Industrial Revolution and watched as both World Wars passed. He saw king after queen after king rule Albion, but never one as great as Arthur.

Once, there came a time in the mid-twentieth century when he looked at the world around him. For a very long time he hadn't taken a proper look at where it was those days. Thinking about it, things were much better. He had never thought about it properly before because he had always being comparing things to how they were back in Camelot, and of course he had found fault in every modern thing he could find. But thinking about it, people these days had things much easier. They had infinitely better healthcare and lived longer lives. The technology they had was incredible, but so few of them really seemed to appreciate it. Admittedly they had come up with new ways of killing each other and had made everything so complicated that he yearned for the old days even more than usual, but in that one day he began to see things differently. He forced himself to stop seeing the bad in everything, and saw what good there was in the world. And he saw lots of it too. It gave him hope in the world once more. Hope that one day the land could be brought to the glory that Camelot had once been. And although he had promised to himself that he would never stray from his task, it gave him more faith to wait out the last few decades – although he did not know that he only had a few more years of waiting left.

It was in the eighties that the first signs of Arthur's return appeared. The only thing was Merlin didn't notice them.

Around medieval times a town had been built by the lake. The townspeople had named it Avalon after the lake it was situated by, although in the present day it was generally thought that the lake was named after the town and not the other way around. Merlin didn't live in the town, he still lived in the hut he had created, although those days it was a small bungalow rather than just some logs bound together. He often made his way through Avalon though. Despite being immortal, he still needed food and drink. Although he could not die of starvation, it was rather an unpleasant experience to have an empty stomach.

In the early nineties he walked past a young girl who was about eight years old. For the next few years he would always walk past her when she was on her way to school. He should have known then, he should have paid attention to her brown skin and dark curly hair, but as it was he didn't, and so he didn't notice the first of the reincarnations.

* * *

_Updates will be random, like always. I kind of write when I'm inspired and I feel I don't write well enough when I'm not, however I'll try to update every week or two weeks. If I don't, bug me until I do. I want to finish this thing._

_It's started off on a bit of a low note, but it will get increasingly happier as it progresses. Please let me know what you think!_


	2. Meet Darcie and Lottie

_Remember how I said that I'd update every week or so? Well, I think that was roughly ten hours. I kind of forgot to mention in the last chapter, but there will be spoilers for the last season in here._

* * *

Merlin had been disguising himself as an old man for a few decades by the nineties. People didn't notice the elderly that well, especially if they looked like hobos. Despite appearances, Merlin was not a hobo; he had a place to live and a purpose in life. He had something worth living for – the only thing he was living for – which was more than most people. They ran around looking for jobs and hoping for promotions, fretting about their appearances and what to eat next Friday. To him it all seemed pointless. Hardly any of these people ever realised what was actually important in the world, yet occasionally someone did, and it was always the most surprising of people.

Take the young girl he met in 1992. Barely older than eight, and yet brighter than most adults.

He had been sitting on a low wall one day, near the local playground, staring out over the lake and imagining the time when Arthur would return. Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when the young girl came up to him.

"You look sad," she said. "Why are you sad? Is it because you don't have any friends?"

He almost jumped right off the wall in surprise. It wasn't every day someone spoke to him, it wasn't every year either.

"Sorry?" he said hurriedly, his voice a low croak form little usage.

"Are you sad because you don't have friends?" she asked.

Once he got a good look at her, he nearly jumped off the wall again. She was familiar, painfully familiar, and even after fourteen hundred years he could recognise the facial features of Queen Guinevere. The girl had brown skin and dark eyes, a rounded face and flared nostrils. Her hair was a bunch of messy curls that had been scraped back into a ponytail by a tidy mother. She wore a pair of dungarees over a yellow top, not exactly the sort of thing you would expect from a queen, but she looked incredibly like Gwen all the same.

Merlin shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts. It wouldn't do to imagine that the queen of Camelot had been reborn into the body of a child. It was merely a coincidence that she looked like his friend.

The girl took the shake of his head to mean no, so she asked, "Then why are you sad?"

He considered ignoring her question, just leaving then and there, but he wouldn't do that to a child.

"I'm sad because I'm waiting for a friend," he replied, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Why are you waiting for them?" the Gwen-lookalike asked.

"Because they're my friend."

"But why do you have to wait for them? Why aren't they with you?"

Merlin marvelled at the simplicity of a child's mind. She saw the world in a very basic way, freed from complications. If only life could really be like that.

"Why aren't you with _your_ friends?" he asked light-heartedly.

"Lottie's ill and Tommy won't let me play with him," she answered seriously.

He looked at her for a few moments and she became shy, glancing down at her feet.

"What's your name?" he asked, barely daring to hope.

"Darcie," she answered.

He hid his disappointment in another question, "What's wrong with Lottie?"

"I don't know. Her mum says that she woke up in the night. I think she might have been sick," she said, looking up at him again. "Maybe you should go looking for your friend instead of waiting for them."

"I know where he is though, and I can't go looking for him there. I've just got to wait," he said, looking back out over the lake, away from Darcie.

"Maybe you could look for other friends while you wait," she suggested. "You look lonely."

"I don't need to look for others; I just need to wait for him."

"But you could be waiting a long time, you could be waiting for years!" she exclaimed, leaning on the wall he sat on.

"You could be waiting a long time for Lottie to get better," he pointed out.

"That's why I came to talk to you."

He hesitated, then swivelled his head around to stare at her.

"You looked like you needed a friend," she said.

He didn't say anything. He pictured the girl growing old, her hair turning white and wrinkles appearing on her skin. He pictured standing at a grave with the name "Darcie" marked on it.

"I can't be your friend," he said.

She stared up at him with large eyes and then they heard someone shouting, "Darcie!"

A woman with caramel skin and curly brown hair that matched her daughter's came running towards them.

"Darcie! Don't bother the man!" she exclaimed, grabbing the girl's arm. "I'm sorry if my daughter –" she said to Merlin.

"No, don't worry. It's fine," he said.

He watched the woman take Darcie away, fussing over her and scolding her for talking to strange men.

Little did he know that everything she had just said was true. He did need to find other people; he just didn't know it yet.

He never spoke to Darcie after that, he just didn't want to get attached to her. He noticed her occasionally though; sometimes he would just see a girl with brown curly hair walking down the street out of the corner of his eye. He often thought about going to speak to her, but he always held himself back. He never forgot their one conversation though, the only proper conversation he had for years.

In the end she moved away from Avalon to get her diploma. He didn't see her out of the corner of his eye anymore.

* * *

Lottie tapped her pen against the notepad while staring out of the kitchen window. It was silly really; she couldn't even come up with a few sentences on why someone should hire her. Most people could do it easily: these are my qualifications, this is what I'm good at, hire me; but not her. She had even gone to the lengths of shutting her husband and children out of the house so she could concentrate, but to no avail. All she could think about were the dreams she'd been having. And it wasn't even _those_ dreams, it was the _other_ dreams. Not the dreams that made her wake up screaming, it was the dreams that made her cry. The dreams that seemed so like memories and that always left her in tears.

She'd always dreamed this way, ever since she could remember. She always remembered them as well. Every single second of each dream. She had more memories of dreams than she had of real memories.

She wished she could be like Darcie and dream without waking up screaming or in tears. Life seemed so much simpler for her friend; she had a good job (her own business in fact), she had a proper family and she could fill out a simple job application without spending hours over it.

She cursed and bent her head, running her fingers through her hair. Perhaps she could get David to help her with it later; she usually didn't like getting him to do things for her, despite how supportive he was, she just liked being _independent_. Perhaps it was a side effect from all those years of – no, no, no, it _wasn't real_! None of it was real! They were just _dreams_!

She stood up and threw her pen down onto the kitchen table, making a very disgruntled noise.

"Uh … Charlotte?"

She looked up. David was looking in through the window from the garden, a small boy in his arms.

"Would you let us in for a moment? Sian needs the toilet," he said.

"Mummy!" a little girl cried, jumping up and down in an attempt to see through the window. "I need a wee!"

Smiling, Lottie went to the back door and unlocked it, letting her husband and children inside.

"Thanks, dear," David said, giving her a peck on the cheek as he watched his daughter try to run to the bathroom with her legs crossed. "How's the application going?"

"Badly. Not a single word written," she replied, taking their son out of his arms.

"Do you want me to look at it?" he asked.

"No, no, it's alright. I can do –"

"I'll go look at it," he interrupted, grinning at her.

"Fine," she said exasperated. "I think Luke needs a nap. I'll take him upstairs."

Lottie had known David for approximately ten years and they'd been married for five. Darcie had introduced them and the relationship had just gone from there. It wasn't one of those epic love stories – relationships rarely were – but she was very happy with what she had; David was a considerably better choice than most of the guys she'd ever dated.

She carried Luke up the narrow stairs, her feet scuffing along the carpet, and entered his room. He was already snoring on her shoulder by the time she place him in his cot. She took a few seconds to watch him sleep before brushing a lock of his hair off his face. Unlike Sian, he had inherited his father's light brown hair, a fact that she had been secretly pleased about. Sian had Lottie's raven hair, but her appearance had always reminded her of the dreams too much. She hated to say it, but sometimes she couldn't even look at her own daughter for this reason.

She shook her head violently, reminding herself that she didn't think about the dreams when she wasn't dreaming. If she had it her way, she wouldn't be able to think about the dreams even when she was dreaming, but you couldn't have everything.

Deciding that she needed to get out of the house for a while, she went downstairs and called for Sian.

"Do you want to go to the park?" she asked her.

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Yes!"

"David, I'm taking Sian to the park," she called in the direction of the kitchen.

Hearing a grunt which she took to mean "yes", she helped Sian put on her coat and hat, then grabbed her own coat and headed out the door.

They walked briskly down the road, or rather Lottie walked while Sian skipped. Most of the walk to the park was spent by Lottie trying to force a wool hat on her daughter's head so she wouldn't get cold from the January air. There didn't seem much point though; the girl was making so much movement she must have been boiling in her coat. There wasn't a proper pavement where they lived so Sian skipped along the grass verges while Lottie walked between her and the road just in case any cars drove past and Sian decided it was a good idea to run out into the road.

She made a point of looking directly at her daughter every so often.

She also made a point of not looking at the lake to their right.

When they reached the park it was empty. It was quite small; just a couple of swings, a seesaw, a slide, and a climbing frame. Sian ran immediately to the swing on the far left, the one she always chose, and Lottie seated herself on the park bench.

After a few minutes of watching the four year old girl swing herself as high as she could, a blue lorry drove past. Lottie watched it go, but looked away again when it passed the lake. She caught a glimpse of someone walking down the road; it was the old man that always walked through Avalon, the hobo. He was an odd person, never speaking to anyone, or even looking at them. When they were younger, she and Darcie would make up stories about how he was actually a ghost and that was why he acted as though other people didn't exist. He had always walked through the town, for as long as she could remember, and he always looked the same too. Once she had asked her mum about him because she had lived in the town for most of her life. Apparently the hobo had been there longer than she had, and his appearance never changed.

It was an odd thing, but no one really paid it much attention. He was just a hobo after all.

Lottie never properly noticed him; he was always there, but hardly worth enough to stare at. Just this one time though she did notice him. He had stopped walking, and for a moment she thought he was going to look sideways at the lake, but he didn't, instead he started walking straight down the road again.

As he came closer, she wondered what his story was. How old was he? What was his name? But as he came close enough so she could see his face she didn't wonder. She didn't wonder because she recognised him. She knew his story, and she knew his name. He was the man from her dreams. The one who had killed her.

* * *

_Oh look a cliffhanger. I didn't realise I'd done that until I'd checked through the chapter twice. Sorry._


	3. Lets Go Chase Down A Hobo

_Thanks for all the reviews people, they really mean a lot to me! Forgot to mention: Sian is pronounced sh-ahn._

* * *

Lottie stared at the man, frozen to the bench. It was him, it really was. There was no mistaking it. Merlin. Her destiny and her doom.

For several seconds, she only stared at him. She considered speaking to him, she considered ignoring him, she considered running away. In the end she just sat there, her eyes still locked on him.

It couldn't possibly be the Merlin could it? Was it the very same? The one who lived in Camelot? It couldn't be; he would have to be over a thousand years old by now. Who would want to live that long?

She almost got up and walked over to him, but something held her back. In fact, everything held her back.

It was only after he had walked around the corner that she could move again. Jumping up off the bench, she ran over to the swing and caught Sian mid-air.

"Come on, Sian. We're leaving," she said, already dragging the girl towards the park exit.

"But Mummy, can't we stay?"

"No, we have to go home now."

Lottie picked up her pace, almost dragging Sian down the road.

"You're hurting my arm!" she whined.

As soon as they were home, Lottie opened the door to let her daughter in and then ran upstairs, not even bothering to help Sian with her coat.

"Lottie? Is that you?" she heard from the kitchen, but she ignored it.

Bursting into their bedroom, she locked the door and grabbed the phone off the bedside table. Her hands shaking she punched in the number and sat on the edge of the bed, jiggling her legs in anticipation. She held the phone up to her ear and desperately waited for it to start ringing.

…

Darcie was in her workshop when her mobile started ringing. She initially didn't hear it because she was using her sewing machine, but when it started vibrating in her pocket she took her foot off the pedal to answer it. Recognising the caller as Lottie, she flipped the phone open and said, "Lottie?"

"Darcie," she heard from the other end of the line. "I – I think I need – Can you – Oh God."

Her voice was trembling and she almost sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

"Lottie? What's wrong? Has something happened?" she asked quickly, standing up just in case she needed to rush off to her.

"I – Umm – You know those … dreams we have?"

"The ones about Camelot?" she said slowly.

"Yes. Well … uh … I – I saw him."

"Who?"

"Him. Merlin."

Darcie paused for a few seconds, taking in what her friend had just said.

"You saw Merlin."

"Yes! He's the hobo!"

"Lottie, I really don't think that you actually –"

"Look-look-look, _never mind_. Just … can you come over?"

"I'm working –"

"Please! I can't do this! He just turned up at the park, and I –"

Her speech was suddenly cut off, and Darcie wondered if she was even still there.

"Lottie?"

"I'm here."

"Alright, I'll come. See you in a few minutes."

"Thanks."

She hung up and walked to the door where she'd hung her coat. She threw it over her arm seeing as it was only a short distance to her car and she hurried out the door.

It didn't take long to reach Lottie's house. She and her family lived roughly half a mile outside the town, they had a wonderful view of the lake, but for some reason Lottie had never liked looking at it.

Darcie thought of the dreams they'd just been talking about. She too had the dreams, but they were a very different experience for her than it was for her friend. They tried to avoid talking about it, especially since they both knew who Lottie was when she was dreaming.

Darcie's dreams had often been ramshackle and rarely occurred in the right order. One night she would be a young maidservant, tending to her mistress, and the next she would be a queen ruling over the legendary Camelot. Discovering that she had dreams where she was Queen Guinevere was a little shocking of course, and even more so when she realised that her best friend was also in her dreams (who incidentally had the exact same dreams). The shock got even greater when she realised who her friend had become: Morgana Le Fay. It was for this reason that they never spoke about Camelot, it was far too upsetting for Lottie.

From what Darcie could piece together, Lottie's supposed "visions" of Camelot had come in chronological order to her. When she was younger, she had often talked about how she was a king's ward and had all sorts of wonderful things bestowed upon her. Darcie had preferred to stay quiet, for by that point she already knew what was to become of her friend.

Lottie talked about it less as she became a teenager, but she often caught her in school staring out of a window with a faraway expression on her face, as though she was dreaming of castles and a certain brotherly prince. It was only in her early-twenties that she started to dream about what Morgana going to become.

Darcie never quite knew what to believe when it came to their "visions". On the one hand, it was completely impossible. Magic was not real, and neither were dragons, griffins nor shades. Yet there was a small part of her who always considered the possibility that it was, and although she knew it was preposterous, she often imagined that the visions were past lives of theirs. Maybe they were reincarnations of Guinevere Pendragon and Morgana Le Fay, and maybe there were others as well. Perhaps there was someone out there who dreamt of being a knight, or a servant, or even a king.

But of course none of it was real; it was just a coincidence – one huge coincidence – that the two friends shared their dreams. Anyway, a person as wonderful and kind as Lottie could never become what Morgana had. _But then again, that's what you thought of Morgana,_ a small voice said in her head.

But regardless of whether it was real or not, Lottie was convinced that she had seen the most powerful warlock of all time walking around Avalon disguised as a hobo. If anything was ridiculous, that was. And ignoring the part of her insisting that Merlin could be real, she pulled up outside Lottie's house, and got out of the car as quickly as possible.

"Hi David," she called, letting herself in the front door. "Is Lottie in?"

"She's upstairs," he said, walking into the hall. "Won't talk to me at all. Will you go speak to her?"

"Of course," she smiled at him, already taking the first steps towards the stairs.

"Lottie?" she called upstairs.

There was no answer.

"Lottie!" she called again, reaching the landing. "I'm guessing that you're hiding in the bedroom?"

She tapped her knuckles against one of the doors.

"Will you let me in?"

The door opened and Darcie slipped quickly inside the room. She sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as Lottie crossed to the window and peaked between the curtains. She seemed jittery and on edge, and she kept clasping her hands together.

"Lottie, what is it?" she asked when it seemed like she wasn't going to say anything.

"It's those dreams we have," she said, her voice trembling.

"The completely coincidental ones about Camelot."

"Yes, well … I _saw_ him Darcie, I saw Merlin," she looked vaguely terrified, and it took Darcie a moment to work out why.

It was because that was how she had died of course, Merlin had killed Morgana.

"You dream in chronological order, don't you?" she asked.

Lottie nodded.

"How far have you got?"

"To the end. Of my timeline at least."

"Morgana's timeline."

"Whatever."

"How long ago was this?" she asked.

"A few months?" she replied, sounding a little unsure. "I've still been dreaming since then, just reliving old dreams."

"So you think you've seen Merlin?"

She nodded again.

"And you say he's the hobo who always walks around town?" she asked.

"Have you ever looked at him properly?" Lottie asked.

"Yes, I have –"

"I mean properly, properly."

Darcie stared at her for a few moments.

"Lottie, he is not Merlin. You are not Morgana. I am not Gwen. _None if it is real_."

She bowed her head and said in a low, accusing voice, "You wish it was though."

It took a few long moments before she could reply.

"There is a reason I've never dated anyone properly you know," she whispered.

"You're waiting for him. You wish he was real," Lottie said.

"Yeah, I do."

Neither quite knew what to say after that. The two friends just sat there: one wishing Camelot was real, and the other desperately hoping that it wasn't.

"So you think you saw Merlin," Darcie said after a while.

"Yes," Lottie replied, although she sounded less sure than before.

"Then we should go find him. See if he is really who you think he is," she said, standing up.

"No! Maybe … maybe it wasn't really him. I mean, _Merlin_. I must have been tired or something," she protested.

"You're afraid of it actually being him," she said. "Why? I'm sure he won't hurt you! You've never done anything to hurt anyone, except for that one time in primary school, but that kid deserved it."

"Darcie, he's the one who killed me. He ran me through with a sword, do you really think that he will forgive me that easily?"

She placed her hands on Lottie's shoulders and looked her firmly in the eyes.

"You are not Morgana Pendragon," she said. "No warlock ever killed you in a past life. Stop freaking out."

"But –"

"And even if it is Merlin – I'm not saying it is – even if it is him, he won't harm you. Know why? Because I'll be there. I'm supposedly Guinevere, right? That means he and I were friends, and he won't hurt you if I tell him not to. Now let's go chase down a hobo."

Cracking a small smile, Lottie allowed herself to be pulled up off the bed by Darcie.

"We're going to find him and prove that he isn't Merlin," she said, smiling. "And if it turns out that he actually is Merlin, then … I don't know what then, but we'll figure something out."

Lottie let her smile fall just a little.

"I'm not going mad, am I?" she asked.

"Anyone would be a little insane after having dreams about Camelot and magic and non-existent hot men," she joked.

"So you find them hot do you?" she teased, a little more of her normal self showing. "Which ones? Except for Mr Obvious of course."

"Shall we focus on the task at hand?" Darcie asked, barely hiding her grin.

When they were back on the ground floor of the house, Darcie said to David, "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to steal your wife for a while."

"Alright, I'm going to start making dinner in a couple of hours though," he said, whilst slowly dragging his foot towards the living room, a squealing Sian clutched around his leg.

"See you later," Lottie said.

"Bye Mummy!" the girl called as they left the house.

"Why are we doing this, Gwen?" Lottie asked.

"To prove to you that Camelot isn't real and you are not an evil witch."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Darcie didn't mention that Lottie had just called her "Gwen".

* * *

_I have a Maths exam on Monday, so most of my time will be dedicated to revision. Luckily it's the only exam I have this month. Until next time!_


	4. Funny What Baked Beans Can Lead To

_Maths is evil. I have no idea why I chose to take this subject. The good news is I have no more exams for a while, at least not until mocks start, but I seem to be a little hazy with the dates on those._

* * *

Darcie and Lottie drove through every street in the small town, but they couldn't find hide nor hair of the supposed "Merlin" so they started to search the surrounding area as well. He was often somewhere nearby; not always in town, but usually around the lake, yet they couldn't find him at all. They returned to Avalon, their curiosity only heightened. Over the next few days they kept an eye out, yet they never saw him. It was almost like he'd vanished from the surrounding area, which he never did. Although no one ever paid attention to him he was always there, which made it all the more unusual. It was like he'd disappeared just because someone had noticed him.

Five days after Darcie and Lottie had first set out to try to find their "hobo", they were sitting in the small kitchen of Darcie's flat, having seen hide nor hair of the old man since. Lottie had made them both some tea and they sat at the table in silence for a while, contemplating the situation.

"So," Lottie said. "He seems to have vanished off the face of the earth the very same day I spotted him."

"It's not like he's always here. He could just be … roaming the countryside," Darcie replied.

"Mmm," she said, staring through the window at the shop fronts across the road. "Maybe we should stop looking. I mean, I know that we haven't been _looking_ – you have a job and I have … other commitments – but I feel that this is all just a wild goose chase."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"If either of us see him at any point, we'll phone the other, okay?"

"Sure."

They sipped their tea in silence for a moment, until Lottie asked, "Darcie? What happened after Morgana died?"

Ever since she had dreamt of Morgana dying, the question had been nagging her. What exactly had happened? Had Arthur died? What had become of Aithusa? Did it have anything to do with the fact that Merlin was now possibly living in the present day as an old man?

"Uhh, what do you want to know?" Darcie asked.

"Did Arthur die from Mordred's blade?"

She immediately felt guilty about asking because she knew that whatever had happened, Darcie probably wouldn't want to talk about it. In fact she was already trying to hide her face by staring down at her tea.

"He did," she replied, her voice remarkably steady. "Merlin took him to the Lake of Avalon to be healed, but Arthur collapsed before they got there. He gave him a funeral and then returned to Camelot."

Morgana would have felt delighted at the news – if she hadn't died minutes before this event – yet all Lottie felt a kind of numbness inside. Arthur meant little to her; she saw his good and bad side, just as Morgana had done once, yet she held no overall opinion on him.

"Did y – Guinevere become queen?"

"Yes, she reigned for over fifty years without Arthur. She never remarried though," Darcie said.

"Why not?"

She shrugged and took another sip of tea.

"So what happened to Camelot?"

"When Merlin returned from Avalon he told Guinevere about his destiny and everything he had been doing to keep Arthur alive since he first arrived in Camelot. Together they worked to build a peace treaty between all the kingdoms of Albion."

"His destiny?" she asked, her interest peaking.

"When he first arrived in Camelot he was told by the Great Dragon that he had a destiny. He was told that Arthur would one day live to be the Once and Future King and that it was his duty to protect and guide him on his way to the throne."

"That was his destiny? No wonder he … What does Once and Future King mean? I've heard of it before but I've never really known what it is."

"Merlin said that Arthur would return to the world someday, but apart from that he didn't say much."

"How can he return if he's dead?"

Darcie glanced at her.

"You just asked how someone can return from the dead in a world where magic exists," she pointed out.

"Good point," she said, laughing.

Darcie giggled and said, "Anything else?"

"What happened to Aithusa? The white dragon, I mean."

"I'm not sure. Merlin sent him away."

"Her."

"Sorry. I think he was angry at her, she never returned anyway," she said.

"Okay, so there was peace in Albion? For how long? Who succeeded Gwen?" she asked.

"The peace lasted for the whole of Gwen's reign. There were still wars of course, the Saxons constantly tried to invade, but Albion stayed united. When Gwen died she asked Merlin to find someone to succeed her. I don't know who that was though."

Lottie sat back in her chair and let the information sink in a little. Then she asked, "Wait, so Gwen knew about Merlin's magic? Wouldn't he have been executed?"

Darcie shook her head, smiling.

"She guessed that he was a sorcerer before he even returned. She later removed the ban on magic."

Lottie was stunned for a moment.

"But … that's what Morgana was fighting for! To be able to live in peace with magic!"

Darcie nodded, "It's a shame she never realised that she wasn't the only one who wanted to live in peace."

Lottie looked down at her mug awkwardly, then noticing the time on her watch said, "Got to go. I need to pick up Sian from school."

She stood up and grabbed her bag off the table.

"How's the job hunting going?" Darcie asked.

"Let's just say that I'm probably going to be working in a café by the end of the month," she replied.

"That badly, huh?"

"Yep. It's like I walk around with a sign attached to me saying "Do not employ me". David's helping with a new job application though."

"You'll get a job eventually. It's not like you haven't managed to get one before."

"I haven't had a proper job since I married David! Not one I kept at least. Ah, I'm gonna be late. See you later."

"Bye."

…

Merlin was just coming out of the local Co-op with five tins of baked beans and other various necessities tucked in his bag, when a car pulled up outside the shop. A woman with long dark hair got out and turned her back to him so she could open the cars back door, as she did so she looked up and caught a glimpse of him. The shock of seeing her face made him freeze in his tracks. He recognised her immediately and could tell she recognised him. Morgana stood opposite him, still clutching the car door handle, terror starting to appear on her face.

He instinctively raised a hand towards her, and she took a step backwards.

How could she be here? Was it actually Morgana? The Morgana? She recognised him, he could see that much. Had she been resurrected? Was she a reincarnation? Did she mean him harm? What about Arthur? She could be there to harm Arthur somehow. Maybe she was trying to stop him from returning to the world.

He was about to speak, to challenge her, when he heard a small voice coming from inside the car.

"Mummy?"

A small girl peered around the door and looked at him. She had long dark hair and pale skin. There was no mistaking who she was. Morgana had a _daughter_.

The woman stepped in front of her child and he lowered his hand slightly. They stood there for a few moments, neither wanted to make the first move, yet neither wanting to be caught unawares.

Merlin took one look at her daughter again, then made his choice. He turned sharply and walked swiftly away, never once looking back, however he did hear the slam of two car doors and the screech of tyres as someone drove away as fast as they could.

He didn't stop walking until he had reached the place he called home. Slamming the door behind him, he locked it non-verbally with magic and did the same to light the candles he had placed around the room. Electricity was useful, but he had never liked the bright lights it created. He always preferred the dim glow of candle light, it reminded him of Camelot; and he liked that, no matter how painful it could be.

After fourteen hundred years of doing nothing but guarding Arthur and the Lake of Avalon, to say that seeing Morgana was a shock was an understatement. Kilgarrah had told him that Arthur would return, but he had said nothing about anyone else returning. It was most definitely her he had decided; the way she had stared at him in terror was enough to show it, and even if she was some sort of reincarnated version of the witch he once knew, the two shared memories. He had been completely ready to strike her down there and then in the street, terrified of making mistakes like last time, but then he had seen the little girl. It was Morgana's daughter, no doubt about it. The fact that she had a daughter alone had stunned him; he had never imagined that someone like her could achieve something so normal as having a family. He had realised that he couldn't kill Morgana in front of her child, so instead he had given her a chance. Already he was cursing his decision. What if she attempted to kill Arthur again? Although from the way she had looked at him in shock, she hadn't expected to see him at all. Could it be what she was after?

A memory of a small girl named Darcie flitted across his mind. Gwen, she had to be Gwen. He had even _realised_ who she resembled and yet had been so stupid to have passed it off as a coincidence. They were coming back, all of them. And if the people he had known in Camelot were alive again, then perhaps it was a sign of Arthur returning. Arthur was coming back to him.

He looked out of the window towards the lake, the direction he always looked in when he thought of his king. Although he hadn't really expected to see him rising from the water this very moment, he was slightly disappointed to see that the waters were still as calm as ever. Movement to the right of the lake caught his eye; it was a car driving along the road straight towards his hideout, the very same car that had just pulled up outside the Co-op. he stared at it for a few seconds before jumping into action. A quick flash of gold eyes and the magic books lying on the single table disappeared, and a glance at the door to the room he slept him brought the Sidhe staff he had acquired all those years ago come flying towards him.

Just opening the door to his greatest enemy didn't seem like the best of plans, but the last few years hadn't slowed his reaction time whatsoever, and he was sure he could take her. To start he would act dumb as though he had no idea who she was or why she was there, if things got complicated he could improvise.

He propped the staff behind the door just as someone knocked on it. After waiting a few seconds to compose himself, he opened the door, and then was greeted by the wrong face. Startled, he blurted out their name before he could stop himself.

"Gwen?"

Her eyes widened in shock, and he immediately regretted saying it. He noticed too late that Morgana was standing just a couple of paces behind her.

At first he thought that she was using Gwen as a hostage, but their body language was all wrong; both women seemed to find him the potential threat here, even Gwen.

"So it _is_ you," Gwen said, her eyes still wide open.

Morgana was also looking slightly awed, although just mainly scared. She was keeping a safe distance behind Gwen at least.

"Sorry, what?" he said, although it was clearly too late.

"It's you, isn't it?" she asked.

"I don't know what you're talking –"

"Yes you do," Morgana said. "You're – you're –"

Merlin looked the two closely in the eyes.

"Say it," he said.

"Merlin," Gwen answered.

He nodded stiffly, keeping a wary eye on Morgana. Gwen noticed what he was doing and said, "It's okay, she's … it's okay."

He nodded, still not certain, but relaxed his guard a little. If Gwen was sure then he should be too.

"How long have you –"

Gwen was cut off mid speech by a bone crushing hug. Merlin wrapped his arms around her and held her as tightly as possible without breaking any of her bones. He had forgotten how good it felt to have a friend nearby.

To her credit Gwen didn't pull away, even though she had just been hugged by a complete stranger, who may or may not have been the greatest warlock to ever live. She seemed to realise his need for the contact, and he was extremely grateful for it.

"I never thought …" he said. "I never realised that you might come back too."

"Will you let go for a moment?" she asked.

He pulled away from her and she stared at him appraisingly.

"Show me," she said. "I think we should look at each other properly, no disguises."

She had just turned the last words she had ever spoken to him into some of the first.

Bowing his head in respect to her, he muttered a few words. In just a few seconds, his hair had receded into his scalp and turned raven, and all his wrinkles vanished. After fourteen hundred years he still looked exactly the same as the day Arthur died.

At seeing his magic at work, Morgana immediately took a few steps backwards looking completely stunned, but Gwen stood where she was, a smile blooming into existence on her face.

The meeting meant very different things to each of them. For Merlin, it was a sign that Arthur was returning, the very moment he had been yearning to happen for so long. For Gwen, it meant that Camelot was real; everything she had been unsure of had existed at some point, including the man she loved. But for Morgana, it meant that all her nightmares had just come alive all at once.

* * *

_Arthur ought to come into this soon. Probably not the next chapter, but maybe the one after that, or if not the one after that one. By the way, if anyone has ideas or preferences as to what I should name other characters, I'm open for suggestions._


	5. Fourteen Hundred Years Late

_Sorry for the wait guys, but thank you all so much for the reviews! My muse wasn't exactly working for the conversation between Merlin, Darcie and Lottie so I sort of skipped over it, but on the up side Arthur returns in this chapter. I've only been through this once as I wanted to get it up as soon as possible, so correct me if there are any mistakes._

_Has anyone listened to the 5x13 commentary yet? Who would have thought that Julian Murphy was the biggest Merthur shipper of all? If you haven't heard it, he basically announced that Merthur was canon. Funniest thing I've listened to in a while!_

* * *

As Darcie stared at Merlin's young face, a tear rolled down her cheek. She felt emotionally conflicted, not sure whether to be happy or sad. On the one hand, Merlin was real, yet on the other …

"How long have you been waiting?" she asked.

"Far too long," he replied, his own eyes a little damp.

"I can't believe it, you're real," she breathed.

"And I can't believe you're alive again," he replied.

They stood there for a few seconds, quite at a loss as to what to say next. Lottie stood forgotten in the background.

"You should come in," Merlin said eventually, stepping backwards.

Darcie took a few hesitant steps into the house and looked around. It was dark, with only a few candles to light the room. From what she could see, it looked like he had tried to put all the necessities into one single room. There was an oven, a sink, a fridge, a washing machine, a couple of cupboards and a microwave taking up one side of the room, while a large bookcase filled with old volumes took up the other. There was a small circular table and a single wooden chair in the middle, the only source of comfort in the room. In the far wall there were two doors, presumably leading to the bathroom and the bedroom. A long piece of string had been pinned up over this wall, partly covering the doors, as a sort of washing line. There were a few items of clothing already hanging on it, limp with saturation. It was hard to believe that this was where the great Merlin had lived for hundreds of years. It was almost a hovel.

"This is where you live?" Lottie asked from right behind Darcie, making her jump.

"I don't have much need for luxuries," he said. "Um, I would offer you a drink, but I haven't got anything."

"How many years was it exactly?" she asked.

"Roughly fourteen hundred."

"How did you live like this?" Darcie almost whispered.

"I'm not living to live. I'm only living because of Arthur," he replied quietly.

"Is it true? Will Arthur return?" she asked.

"I wouldn't be here if he wasn't going to."

"Do you know when?"

After a pause he said, "I don't know. But seeing as I've found you … it could be soon."

She broke out into a smile all over again and turned to Lottie to share in her excitement, but instead of seeing her standing next to her, she had backed away towards the door. She hovered half out of the house, staring apprehensively at Merlin.

"Lottie? What is it?" she asked.

"You're not going to kill me then?" she said to Merlin.

"Not if you're not going to kill Arthur," he replied.

"Why would I want to kill him? I'm not Morgana, I swear, I'm a completely different person. We aren't the same people from Camelot. We may look like them, but I can promise you we are different people. I never tried to kill Arthur, or any of you. I've never wanted that."

Merlin took a few moments to look at her carefully, after which he said, "Then I'll trust you. But believe this; if you dare harm anyone, or even show a desire to do so, I will kill you."

He said it with such danger and conviction in his voice that Darcie didn't doubt his promise for one second. She wanted to say something to defend her friend, but the look in his eyes scared her slightly, and she wondered what exactly his fourteen hundred years had done to him.

"Your names are Darcie and Lottie?" he asked.

They nodded.

"Would you prefer me to call you by those names?" he asked.

"Umm –"

"Yes," Lottie said.

He nodded once.

"So," Darcie said. "You've been waiting all these years for Arthur to return?"

"I thought I told you that in Camelot," he replied.

"You did. Is he like us? Has he already been reincarnated? We could go looking for him," she said.

"Arthur isn't actually dead," he said, walking over to one of the cupboards. "He's sleeping, or waiting, or something. Either way, when he comes back it will be the same Arthur, fresh from Camelot. So … what else do you want to know?"

* * *

They talked long into the evening, well past the point where Darcie and Lottie should have returned to their homes. Darcie seemed completely comfortable with everything, if a little awed, and sat with her legs dangling off the table watching him talk avidly. Lottie was more cautious with it all, muttering about how she would have to phone David – who he presumed was her husband – about where she was, yet after the two had left, he noticed that she hadn't touched her phone once. It seemed that she had been too preoccupied by his words.

Lying in bed that night, he thought about Arthur again. There was never a minute that went by when he didn't do this, despite having tried to forget everything multiple times, so it wasn't exactly a peculiar behaviour of his. Yet as the years had drawn on, he had grown less and less sure that he was going to return to him, it had been during the reign of Henry VI when he realised that he had almost lost faith in Arthur's return. He only continued waiting out of duty and because there was nothing else he could do.

But now he had evidence that he really could come back to him. Gwen and Morgana had been reincarnated, and there were possibly others out there somewhere. He could see everyone again; Gaius, Hunith, Balinor, the knights, maybe even – But then he realised that he wouldn't be able to see everyone; some of them had prior commitments.

But the most important thing had to be that Arthur was coming back and probably soon, that was all that mattered.

As he thought these things to himself, he eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

He awoke sometime in the early hours of the morning, just as dawn was about to make an appearance. At first he couldn't fathom why he had awoken, but after a while he became aware that he needed to get up. He couldn't say how he knew, but if he could take a guess it would be something to do with the Old Religion. But the Old Religion hadn't called on him in hundreds of years. In his mind, this could mean only one thing: Arthur was returning.

He leapt out of bed as fast as humanly possible and ran out of the bedroom and then straight through the door, not stopping to get shoes or anything warmer than the shirt he had fallen asleep in. He sprinted barefoot across the grass down towards the edge of the lake. The sky was tinged with the beginnings of light, illuminating his path to his second destiny.

As he grew closer to the lake, he could see that the surface was bubbling several yards out from the edge. The waters frothed and foamed and from in the middle of it all, Merlin could see a figure rising from beneath the surface. He splashed into the lake at full pelt, the sudden change in resistance slowing him down. Despite this, he reached the bubbling waters in seconds, just as Arthur burst through the surface. He gasped in a lungful of air and began to fall forwards, but he was halted by Merlin catching him. As the warlock's hands made contact with the former king's chest, the sun rose over the island in the middle of the lake, illuminating the scene.

"_Merlin, what –"_ he started to say, but stopped when he realised his friend was sobbing. "_What happened? I was dying …_"

"_It's you_," Merlin choked out, barely noticing that he was speaking in a language he hadn't spoken in centuries. "_It's really you_."

It came to him that he was saying it more for his own benefit than Arthur's.

"_What are you talking about? How did I get in the lake?"_ he asked.

Merlin didn't answer for a while, too preoccupied with clutching his friend to him as tightly as he could. Waist deep in icy water, Arthur awkwardly patted him on the back.

"_Merlin? Did the Sidhe heal me?"_ he asked.

He finally pulled away and said, "_I was too late. There was nothing I could do to save you_."

Arthur's face paled.

"_You mean … We're both dead? You're dead too?_" his voice rose in panic and despair.

"_No!_" he laughed suddenly. "_You're alive, we're both alive. You've just been sleeping for a very long time_."

Confusion didn't even come close to what Arthur seemed to be feeling at that moment.

"_So … How long have I been 'asleep'?_" he asked.

He hesitated before saying, "_Let's go inside first_."

They were both starting to shiver uncontrollably, the icy water proving too much for their warm-blooded bodies.

Merlin muttered a few words, "_beõian_," giving Arthur a great feeling of warmth throughout his body.

"_That helps_," he said, as they started to walk out of the lake.

He leaned heavily on Merlin, a little disorientated, although the warlock seemed a little unsteady on his feet too.

As they left the water, Arthur happened to look down at his friends clothes.

"_Merlin, what are you wearing?_" he asked, slight amusement creeping into his voice.

"_Like I said, it's been a while since Camlann. Fashions have changed_," he said.

"_Surely not that much_."

"_Come on, my home is just up here_."

"_Your … home?_" he said, relying less on Merlin to walk now. "_But we're nowhere near Camelot. Why do you live here?_"

"_I was waiting for you to return_."

"_Merlin, how long have you been waiting?_"

"_Too long_."

"_Be more specific. Days? Weeks? No? … Months?_"

He said nothing.

"_It surely can't have been years. You don't look any different, at least … not much_," he said, stopping so he could look him in the face properly.

It was still fairly dark, so Merlin wondered if he could see the tell-tale signs of what his wait had done to him.

"_Tell me how long it's been_," he demanded.

"_A few years_," he lied smoothly. "_It was my duty to keep guard over the lake, that's why I live nearby._"

It felt wrong to be lying to him once more, but he didn't feel like he could explain everything then and there. He needed a few moments to accumulate to what was happening.

Arthur was actually here by his side; living, breathing, and most importantly here. He was having extreme amounts of trouble trying to hide his true emotions at being by his side again; he could hardly believe it was really happening. He would tell Arthur of course, and very soon, but for the minute he wanted to keep quiet and pretend that it was like old times. For the moment, the last few hundred years hadn't happened.

* * *

_Now this is where the good stuff starts happening. Merlin and the others are going to have to get Arthur accumulated to the modern day and many antics will ensue. I don't have anything solid planned for the next few chapters, so if anyone can think of something they want to happen, leave a suggestion in a review and I'll probably include it. Reviews are also greatly appreciated as they feed my muse. Until next time!_


	6. Brief Explanations and a Surprise Cameo

_I'm actually quite pleased with this chapter. I hope I got Arthur's reaction to everything right. For some reason I accidently kept slipping out of his POV and into Merlin's, don't know why. When I first started writing this chapter I didn't intent on writing what happens at the end, at least not yet. You'll see what I mean._

_Thank you very much to everyone who has reviewed, favourited or followed this story, these things really make my day._

* * *

Arthur stared around the strange room. It was certainly an odd place, completely different to anything that could be found in Camelot. There were only two small windows, and in the early dawn they didn't allow much light into the room. Merlin was making his way around the room, lighting candles perched on window sills and shelves as he went. Arthur was sitting at the table, waiting for an explanation as to what had just happened. From what he had already discovered he had died, except he hadn't really died, he had been asleep in a lake for a few years.

After Merlin had finished brightening the room – although it didn't make much difference – he turned to Arthur and leaned against one of the odd surfaces lining the right hand wall. His face was lit up in one of the silliest grins he had ever seen on his manservant, although for some reason it was infectious, and Arthur felt his own mouth turn upwards at the edges.

"_Are you going to give me a decent explanation of what happened?_" he asked.

"_I told you already. You … died_."

Despite this rather morbid statement, the smile just wouldn't leave Merlin's face.

"_No need to look so cheerful about it_," Arthur said.

"_Sorry, it's just … it's been a while_."

"_Well don't start crying about how much you missed me_."

"_Don't worry, I won't_."

"_How long has it been?_"

Silence. Merlin's smile faded a little.

"_I'm starting to think that it's been a very long time_," he said.

"_What makes you think that?_" Merlin asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"_You've been avoiding the question, you're grinning like you haven't seen me in a century, you're wearing strange clothes, and I have absolutely no idea what that thing is_," he pointed accusingly at the fridge.

"_I've lost count_."

"_What?_"

"_I've lost count of how many years it's been_."

"_You mean –_"

"_Roughly fourteen hundred_."

Arthur stared at him. He couldn't possibly be serious. He looked just as young as ever. How was that even possible?

"_Don't joke about things like that_," he said darkly.

"_I'm not joking_."

"_But … that's not possible_."

"_Arthur, I'm a sorcerer. Why is that so surprising to you?_"

The look in his eyes told Arthur that he wasn't lying. It really had been that long. It was a good thing he was sitting down because he was starting to feel a little lightheaded.

"_F – fourteen hundred years_," he said, not liking the way the words sounded on his tongue at all. "_And you've been waiting all this time?_"

Merlin nodded.

"_Never leaving the lake?!_"

"_It was my duty to protect you_."

He clutched his head with his hands. Merlin had been waiting that long for him … there were literally no words to describe how he was feeling. Merlin's loyalty was incredible, yet …

The man had waited _that long _just for him. _Fourteen hundred years_. It barely seemed possible.

Instead of trying to wrap his head around the fact of how old Merlin was now, he turned his mind to another thing this meant. Everyone he knew except for Merlin was dead.

"_This means that … Guinevere is dead_," he choked out, barely managing to say his late wife's name.

For some reason Merlin's smile crept back on to his face. Arthur stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds.

"_She is, yes_," he said, and continued. "_But she's been … reincarnated. At least I think that's what we should call it_."

"_She – what?_"

"_Not far from here there is a woman called Darcie. She looks and sounds exactly like Gwen, and has all of her memories. But Arthur _–" he said, as the former king stood up suddenly. "_She's not our Gwen. At least, I don't think she is. She looks exactly the same, but something's different about her. I think that she's a woman called Darcie who happens to have Gwen's memories, I just don't know why_."

"_She's not Guinevere then_," he said.

Merlin shook his head.

_"But she's … similar?"_

_"Very."_

He sat down on the chair with a sigh, not quite knowing how to feel.

"_Does this Darcie know who you are?_" he asked.

"_Yes, I told her who I was just yesterday actually_."

"_Are there others?_" he asked. "_Surely if there is someone with Gwen's memories there must be others_."

"_I imagine there are others, but there's only one I know of_."

"_Who is it?_" he asked.

Merlin hesitated and then said, "_Morgana_."

Arthur leapt to his feet, unsheathing his sword as he did. Merlin stared at it like he'd never seen it before.

"_Where is she?_" he growled, striding towards the door.

"_Arthur, no!_" he cried, darting forwards to grab his arm. "_It's not Morgana. Her name is Lottie, she has a husband and two children, and as far as I know she wouldn't want to hurt anyone_."

Arthur hesitated and looked at Merlin properly.

"_It's not the Morgana we know. Lottie is … terrified of Morgana's memories, and she has no wish to harm any of us. Trust me, Arthur._"

Reluctantly, he stepped back from the door.

"_Merlin," he said. "Why am I here? Why do these people have Gwen and Morgana's memories?_"

"_I don't know. When you first … died I was told that there would come a time when Albion would need you again, but I don't know why that is. I suppose that your being here is meant to foreshadow dark times … Is it wrong if I say that I wanted this to happen?_"

It took him a moment to figure out why anything would be wrong with that at all.

"_No, it's not wrong at all. You didn't want to put Albion in danger, you just wanted to have an old friend back. I can't possibly imagine what you've been through, although if I were to take a guess I'd call it hell. There's nothing wrong with wanting someone to walk the earth with again_," he said.

Merlin broke out into his wide grin again, his eyes lighting up with emotion.

Arthur suddenly punched him in the arm.

"_What was that for?!_" he yelled.

"_Lying to me for almost ten years_," he replied.

"_You're insufferable_," he said, amazed.

"_You're the one who waited over a thousand years for me_," he retaliated. "_So, what's been happening in the last few centuries?_"

"_Well, after you left I returned to Camelot, where Gwen reigned as queen. She was a good ruler, you couldn't have chosen anyone better_," he said, sitting on the edge of the strange table thing by the wall and rubbing his arm ruefully.

"_Tell me about her_."

He sat back down at the table.

"_She lived for a long time, and was a great queen. She held talks to join each of the kingdoms in peace, it was a happy ending in a way; Morgana was dead and we were able to fend off the Saxons for many years. She never remarried, if you were wondering, and she died with no heir. She left me to choose who would be the next king or queen_."

"_And everyone else?_"

"_Gwaine … died a day before you did. He and Percival went after Morgana. Percival was the first one to find me actually. After Gwaine died, he left him to follow Morgana, when he found her body he followed our trail to the lake where I still was. We brought Gwaine's body back to Camelot together. About a week after her coronation, Gwen lifted the ban on magic and made me court sorcerer. It was good. Camelot was a good kingdom_."

Arthur nodded his head and his eyes became unfocused. Merlin let him be; discovering that you'd missed fourteen hundred years of history was a lot to take in.

"_Did you … Did you cheat at dice?!_" Arthur's voice rose in indignation. "_Using magic? You stole my money!_"

"_You were the king, you had plenty of money!_" he retaliated, a grin creeping across his face once more.

"_Don't make excuses, you still cheated_," he sat at the table doing a perfect impression of a sulking child. "_Who's ruling Camelot now anyway?_"

"_Um, Camelot doesn't exist anymore. All the kingdoms in Albion merged to make the United Kingdom, which is split into different countries. There isn't a monarchy anymore, they have a democracy,_" seeing Arthur's confusion, he continued. "_People vote for what they want to happen in the country and who makes the decisions. I don't actually know that much about it all, I haven't exactly kept in touch with too many modern aspects_."

"_They don't have a king?_" Arthur asked in disbelief. "_But what if people disagree?_"

"_Yeah, that happens a lot. There is a queen though. The royal family are just figureheads, they make speeches about stuff and raise the country's moral_."

"_Well what's the point in that?_" he said with disdain.

_"Look, I don't know. I'm not the one who decided all this."_

_"So if I'm not king anymore, what do I do?" _he asked.

Arthur felt smaller somehow. He had always had direction in his life. From the moment he had been born he knew who he was and what he must be; but now, he had nothing. He was no longer part of the royal family, and this scared him a little. It was hardly the biggest of his problems, and was nothing compared to thinking about Merlin's age, but it still made its mark in his mind. He was a commoner with literally no purpose in his life. For the first time he understood how Merlin must have felt when he first arrived in Camelot.

_"I guess we'll have to find out," _he said.

He grinned.

_"But in the meantime, you need to meet Darcie."_

Arthur perked up a little at hearing these words.

_"Excellent, where does she live?"_

_"In town. Um, I don't have a phone to call her; we'll have to walk there."_

_"How far is it?"_

_"About two miles."_

_"Don't you use horses these days?"_

Merlin snorted.

_"There are much quicker ways of travelling now. Unfortunately I've never got the hang of them."_

_"Can't you just use magic to get us there?"_ he asked, trying his best not to sound like a whining child.

He laughed, _"It's only two miles, Arthur! Come on, let's get a move on."_

He stood up grudgingly and Merlin jumped down off his perch. They made it halfway to the door before the sorcerer stopped and looked his friend up and down.

_"What is it?"_ he asked.

_"You're going to need some new clothes,"_ he said.

_"Why?"_ he asked, disgruntled.

_"You can't go walking around town in chainmail."_

_"Why not? You mean you want me to wear something like that?" _he pointed to Merlin's button-down shirt. _"What is it anyway?"_

_"Trust me, this shouldn't be that strange to you at all. Wait till you see miniskirts,"_ he muttered.

_"I'm fine wearing this, thanks. I'm sure no one will notice."_

_"They'll probably all think you're going to some sort of medieval festival."_

_"What are these words you keep saying? What's a 'miniskirt'?"_ he asked.

_"Something that will shock the life out of you, I'm sure."_

_"Well, what is it?"_

_"It may be best that you don't know for now."_

_"Why's that?"_

_"Never mind. Do you want to meet Gwe – Darcie? It would be best if we could go before there are too many people around to see you."_

_"Alright," _he agreed.

Merlin grabbed what appeared to be a kind of long jacket from the back of Arthur's chair and put it on. There was no need to change what they were wearing as he had used magic to dry their clothes.

He opened the door, closing it behind Arthur as he walked out. He didn't bother locking it; no one ever went down to that part of the lake anyway.

He led Arthur through a dense patch of trees for a few minutes before they came out into the open where they were greeted by a long dark surface in front of them. It stretched far away to either side of them. To the right it ran down a hill so he couldn't see the end and to the left it continued at a gentle slope to what seemed to be a kind of settlement. He bent down to touch the strange surface, taking the glove off his left hand to feel its texture. It was odd, like nothing he'd ever felt before.

_"What is this?"_ he asked, looking up at his sorcerer for an explanation.

_"It's a road,"_ Merlin said.

_"Is it?"_ he said, surprised. _"What's it made of? This isn't dirt or stone."_

_"It's tarmac. Just something they invented a few decades ago. It makes it more efficient to travel on."_

He looked back at the road, wrinkling his nose.

_"This is strange,"_ he said.

Merlin laughed.

_"If you think this is weird, you'll have a hard time adjusting to this time."_

_"Weird?"_ he said, testing out the new word.

_"I mean strange."_

* * *

Two miles further along the road and they reached the settlement Arthur noticed earlier. He was amazed at how high each house rose. At first he thought they must have belonged to people of great importance – perhaps not lords, but to knights at least – they were so big and well kept. When a steel monster ran past them he drew his sword and would have jumped out into the road and attempted to slay it had Merlin not grabbed his arm and dragged him back. After a quick explanation about the horses of the age, they continued to Gwen's home.

They reached the centre of the town just as people were beginning to appear on the streets. It struck Arthur as being very late to start work. Considering that it was winter, and so dawn was later than usual, people should have been up ages ago; how else did they expect to make their living?

He noticed that they were starting to get some very odd looks from all the people passing them. He gave them equally odd looks, staring at their distinctive clothing. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw a woman wearing a dress that stopped at her knees, scandalously showing off her calves.

He was surprised when Merlin stopped to talk to her.

He asked her something in a language he didn't recognise, although he did hear him saw Gwen's new name once.

Once he had asked the woman his question, she looked Arthur up and down, an amused look on her face, before dragging her eyes away from him to look at Merlin.

He glanced down at his chainmail, feeling self-conscious and suddenly wishing he had taken up Merlin's offer for some new clothes.

The woman replied in the same language, but she looked suspicious of them. She also seemed to leave her speech on a question.

Merlin replied to this, giving her a smile.

They exchanged a few more words, and somehow his manservant managed to come across as charming, even though he couldn't understand a word he was saying.

The woman gave him an appraising look and then said something, pointing along the road as she did. Merlin said one word and grinned at her, pulling Arthur away.

"_Did you see her skirt?!_" Arthur hissed at him.

_"Yes, and believe me, that is considered quite acceptable these days," _he replied.

* * *

The woman watched the man with dark hair and the one in armour walk quickly away from her and around the corner. Once they were out of sight, she turned around and took out her phone. Pressing speed dial she held the mobile up to her ear and said, "Maggie? He's back."

* * *

_Any guesses on who Maggie and the mysterious woman are? I'll give you a clue, both have appeared multiple times in the show. Again, if you have any requests for what you want to see in the next few chapters (like Arthur being terrified of a vacuum cleaner), just leave them in a review and I'll probably include it._


	7. Pancakes?

_HEY GUYS I'M BACK! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while! Those of you that have read my profile recently will know that I had my AS levels to contend with, but I'm all done now and I'm writing again so more updates will be coming soon!_

_In my haste writing the last chapter, I completely forgot that the language they spoke back in Camelot would be completely different to what we speak today, so I had to go back and correct it all. Everything spoken in Old English is in italics to make everything easier. Hope you enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

Darcie hurried down the stairs dressed only in her nightclothes. Why someone was banging on her door at this hour in the morning, she had no idea. People rarely came knocking on her door; clients usually phoned if they wanted something. There were only a few select people who would visit her, and none usually came round this early. She also wondered why they were knocking. Couldn't they see the doorbell?

She entered the hallway and took a quick glance in the mirror to her right, checking that her hair was at least respectable. Satisfied with her reflection, she opened the door. And froze.

Standing in the doorway was Arthur. The same Arthur she knew from her dreams, clad in armour and everything. His head was turned to the side and he was looking upwards slightly, as though admiring the surrounding buildings. He hadn't noticed that the door was open, so Darcie took a moment to stare at him.

She noticed a dark haired figure standing in the corner of her vision, but she barely paid it any attention; Arthur was all she could see.

He was exactly as she remembered; the blond hair lying flat across his forehead, the slight arch of his nose, the way his eyebrows were raised as he took in his surroundings.

He suddenly noticed that she was there and turned to look at her as though he was seeing her for the first time.

She became quite conscious of the fact that she was wearing pyjamas and hadn't had a shower yet.

"_Gwen_," he said.

Even his voice was perfect.

"_Arthur?"_ she said incredulously.

She didn't waste time rushing into his arms. He held her tightly and she buried her head in his shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Merlin grinning like a maniac.

Neither moved for a few seconds, mainly because Darcie was so reluctant to, but Arthur didn't seem to have any complaints.

When she pulled out of the embrace and he looked at her properly, she blushed, becoming self-conscious again.

_"What is with the clothes you have now?"_ he asked. _"You're wearing breeches!"_

She almost snorted with laughter.

_"They're pyjamas!"_ she said. _"Night clothes."_

_"What's wrong with a night dress?"_ he asked, looking at her legs in amusement.

_"Come in,"_ she said, grasping his arm and pulling him inside. _"You have to tell me what happened."_

She tugged him up the flight of stairs, into the space she called home.

Darcie was a self-employed dressmaker, and she lived above her studio in a smallish flat. She earned a fair wage each year and her work was stable. A shame her legs weren't. They made it into the kitchen before she realised that she had been speaking another language.

She hesitated in the doorway and looked back at Merlin.

"What language was I just speaking?" she asked.

"English," he replied, looking amused at her confusion. "An early version of it."

"I did that without even thinking," she said. "Christ, I'm like Harry Potter speaking Parseltongue!"

Neither man seemed to understand that; Arthur because she was speaking modern English again and Merlin because, she realised, it was actually rather unlikely that he had ever picked up a Harry Potter book.

"Oh I have got to get you to read Harry Potter," she said to him, grinning widely and moving further into the kitchen.

_"What's she saying?"_ Arthur asked him, seating himself at the table.

_"Something about a boy named Harry," _he replied. _"I think it's a book."_

"Oh my God, I need to phone Lottie," she said, reaching for the phone, which sat next to the microwave.

She hesitated, then looked back at Merlin, who was leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Is that alright, or should I wait?" she asked.

Merlin looked thoughtfully at Arthur and said, "I've explained it to him, but I think we should ask him anyway."

_"Could you both stop speaking in another language?" _he asked, looking a little frustrated.

_"We were wondering if we could invite Lottie around," _Merlin said.

_"You mean Morgana?"_

_"Yes."_

_"She's really alright, Arthur. I swear,"_ Darcie persuaded.

Still unconvinced, he nodded, _"Alright."_

_"Shall we phone her then?"_ Merlin asked.

Darcie nodded, her eyes glued to Arthur's face. She looked down at her hands and twisted them nervously. It was utterly incredible; Arthur – _Arthur Pendragon_ – was sitting in her home, gazing avidly at her. It was almost too much to take in so early in the morning.

_"Um, Darcie?"_ Merlin said, interrupting her thoughts. _"I don't know how to use a phone."_

_"Oh!"_ she exclaimed. _"Sorry! I'll do it!"_

She hurried to pick up the phone and started dialling as she entered the hallway. It took five rings for Lottie to pick up.

"Darcie?" she said, blearily. "It's kinda early."

"I know, I know, but – ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Lottie, he's back. Arthur, he's back!"

There was silence for a moment, then a loud burst of static that sounded as though Lottie had dropped the phone.

"Lottie?"

Another burst of static and she could hear her saying, "What, really?! Um … oh crap. Um … What do I do?"

Darcie was quite worried by the level of anxiety in her friend's voice. They had talked about this eventuality and she thought that they had sorted this.

"Come round, of course. It's not like he's going to hurt you."

"How can you be sure?" came a small voice.

"Merlin will probably turn him into … I don't know, a toad or something. Seriously, it's going to be fine. Please come round."

"I just … fine. But I'm blaming you if I die by his sword again!"

"You won't!"

"Still not convinced, see you soon."

"Bye," she hung up and then stayed in the hallway for a few moments, clutching the phone to her chest.

It was actually happening. Arthur was waiting for her in the other room, alive and breathing and … wearing medieval armour. She took a peek around the doorway. Complete with sword. Did they actually walk through town like that? Hopefully not too many people had seen them. Perhaps she could make it seem as though they were going to a Renaissance fair to avoid awkward questions.

Walking back in she asked, _"Do you want some tea?"_ Seeing Arthur's blank stare, she added, _"Would you like, um … a kind of hot drink?"_

_"Yes thanks,"_ he said.

_"Merlin?"_

_"You know, I've only tried tea a few times and that was a few centuries ago when it was first introduced in Britain. I've almost forgotten what it tastes like,"_ he replied.

She smiled, _"I'll make some for all of us."_

_"Thanks."_

_"So did you really walk through town like that?"_ she asked, indicating Arthur's attire, flipping the switch to start the kettle.

The former king watched her actions curiously.

_"Don't you have armour these days?"_ he asked.

_"Only as relics. We don't really have much use for it."_

_"You mean there's no fighting? Or do you just do without protection?"_

_"There's plenty of fighting, but not anywhere near here. That doesn't matter right now though, so … how much did Merlin tell you?"_

_"Well, it's been roughly fourteen hundred years since I … died, didn't die, is there actually a word for what happened to me?" _he asked Merlin.

_"As far as I know, there isn't. You're the first one to ever do that you see,"_ Merlin replied.

_"Right, so I "died" and then came back to life – sort of – and you and Morgana have been reincarnated … How much do you remember?"_

_"Um, everything. Well, not every single little memory, but all the important stuff, right from birth to death. They come to me in my dreams, and it's the same for Lottie."_

_"Tell me about your life,"_ he insisted, sitting forwards in his chair, leaning in towards her.

_"Well, I was born here in Avalon – that's the name of the town – my mother and father still live here, but my brother moved away; I haven't seen him in over a year actually. His name is Gavin, although I suppose you would know him as Elyan."_

_"Wait wait wait_._ Elyan?!" _Merlin said in shock._ "You mean you weren't just born into a random family and he was reborn too? Do – do you know of anyone else from Camelot?"_

Surprised at his reaction to her words, she said, _"Uh, I don't think so? Just my parents and him, but I'm not even sure if it's really him; I always thought that it was my subconscious giving Elyan my brothers face, now I'm not so sure though. He doesn't have the same dreams as I do though, at least I don't think he does. But apart from them –"_

She was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Arthur almost jumped out of his chair and looked wildly around to see where the noise came from.

_"That's Lottie!"_ she said. _"I'll go get it."_

_"Get what?" _Arthur asked as she raced out of the room and down the stairs.

Opening the door she saw a dishevelled looking Lottie. She had arrived remarkably quickly; she probably hadn't even showered before coming.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking in concern at her friend.

Darcie became aware of the burning of her cheeks and realised that she must look quite a sight.

"I'm fine," she said, a large grin breaking out on her face. Lowering her voice she added, "He's exactly like I remember."

"Yeah?" she asked. "Is Merlin here too?"

"Yes. Do you want breakfast? Or a shower maybe?" she asked.

"That would be great actually."

She stepped aside to let her in, although Lottie held back to let her climb the stairs first. Darcie practically bounced back into the kitchen and decided that Lottie would rather have coffee at the given moment judging by how she looked.

Re-entering the kitchen, she saw that the kettle had boiled and Merlin had poured the water out into three different mugs and seemed to be searching for teabags.

_"They're in that tin, Merlin," _she pointed to a shelf. _"Arthur, this is Lottie."_

He smiled at her a little awkwardly, which she returned with an equal amount of awkwardness. She looked confused at the sudden change in language, but even more so at the fact that she could understand it.

_"What does everyone want for breakfast?" _Darcie asked.

Arthur shrugged and said, _"The usual?"_

_"People don't usually eat ham and cheese for breakfast anymore,"_ Merlin said. _"Seeing as you're now living in the twenty-first century, you'd better get used to eating modern food,"_ he turned to Darcie and Lottie. _"Suggestions?"_

_"How 'bout pancakes?"_ Lottie said, seating herself at the table opposite Arthur. _"I feel like pancakes."_

_"Agreed. Have you had pancakes before?"_ Darcie asked Merlin.

_"I have! I first tried them in the seventeen hundreds and they've been a favourite ever since."_

_"Well, it's nice to know that you haven't been living off gruel or something all this time,"_ she said, grabbing some flour out of the cupboard.

_"I'm gonna have a shower,"_ Lottie announced, heading off down the corridor.

_"There are fresh towels in the cupboard,"_ she called after her.

_"Yeah, I know,"_ came the reply.

_"So Merlin,"_ said Arthur, turning in his chair to see him. _"How many times did you use magic without me knowing exactly?"_

* * *

_The next chapter will probably contain a (hopefully) rather lengthy conversation about what went on in Camelot behind Arthur's back. I'm really looking forward to writing it actually. Also, if anyone has suggestions on what other characters names should be, please let me know. At the moment I'm just going through baby name websites looking for names that have meanings that roughly describe characters. And I haven't settled with Gavin, I'm just using that until I find a name I'm happy with._


	8. Tree Sap For Breakfast

_I watched the finale again the other day and ended up in floods of tears at the end of it. It's been seven months, SEVEN MONTHS and I'm still not over it._

_I had hoped for the conversation to be a little longer, but Arthur's fascination with modern breakfasts took over, so I think the story of Merlin's magic will be told over a few chapters. None of the dialect is in italics because the entire thing is spoken in Old English. I didn't see the point in changing it all._

_I don't know what sugar beets taste like. Just saying._

* * *

Merlin carried two mugs over to the table and sat where Lottie was previously, opposite Arthur. Darcie set a small jug of milk, some sugar and a few spoons next to them a moment later.

"Try it without milk and sugar first, then add some if you want it," she suggested to Arthur.

He looked into the depths of his mug curiously and fished out the teabag by its string, examining the unusual object up close.

"It's full of tea leaves," Merlin explained. "It's what gives the tea its flavour."

He let it fall back into the mug and observed it changing the colour of the water with interest.

Darcie opened a cupboard and rooted around inside it before dragging out a pan and setting it to one side. She proceeded to pull more items out of cupboards around the room. To his surprise, one of the cabinets started humming and emitted a light when she opened it. These times were strange indeed.

"So where do you want me to start?" Merlin asked, dragging Arthur out of his ponderings.

Turning back to look at the warlock, he urged, "From the beginning."

Merlin smiled and leaned back, fishing his teabag out of his mug.

"Darcie, where should I …"

"Compost," she said simply, pointing to a small bucket on the windowsill, filled almost to the brim with various scraps of greenery.

After disposing of both the teabags, Merlin sat back down and Arthur leaned in towards him, eager to hear his story. The warlock seemed lost in thought for a moment, a thousand memories floating through his mind, each squabbling to be told first.

"I could practice magic from the moment I was born," he started. "And that's not a common thing to find; as far as I know, I'm the first and only one to ever have talent like that. Using magic without spells is one thing, but to be able to create a localised thunder storm minutes after you take your first breath is unheard of."

"A thunder storm?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Pretty advanced for a baby you have to admit," he took a sip of his tea, then reached for the milk to pour a little into his mug.

This reminded Arthur that he was holding a mug of tea himself; only a little apprehensive he raised it to his lips to take a sip. It had a slightly bitter and astringent taste, making him wrinkle his nose. Merlin laughed and said, "You can add some milk and sugar to that if you want to."

He poured a considerable amount of milk into his mug, just as Merlin had done, then pulled the small pot of sugar towards him. He looked down into it dismissively.

"This is salt," he said in confusion.

"It's not, it's like sugar beets," Merlin explained. "It tastes sweet."

The doubtful look lingered on his face.

Darcie giggled and placing what looked like a see-through jug of egg yolks to the side, she came over and stuck a finger in the pot. When she withdrew it, she had several grains of the so called "sugar" clinging to it. Grinning at his expression, she popped it in her mouth and savoured the taste of the salt look-a-like.

"Try some," she encouraged, prodding the pot in his direction again.

He imitated what she had done, putting his finger in the sugar and then deposited it in his mouth. Instead of salt, he found a sweetness spreading across his tongue; very sweet in fact, much sweeter than sugar beets.

He used one of the spoons Darcie had left out to shovel a couple of spoonfuls into his tea. He swirled it around with the cutlery before taking another experimental sip. This time he found it much more appealing and settled back into his chair to listen to the rest of Merlin's story.

"So anyway," the warlock continued. "My magic was completely uncontrollable for the first few years of my life, it was more instinctual than anything else; sometimes I would find myself performing magic without realising it. I knew no spells, yet I was already more powerful than a good proportion of sorcerers.

"Mother had no idea what I was or how I could do these things, but I supposed she suspected it was because of my father – I'll come to him later. Once I was old enough, she sent me to live in Camelot with Gaius."

"But why go somewhere where people would kill you for having magic?" Arthur asked, questioning Hunith's parenting skills.

Merlin shrugged and said, "I didn't fit in at home. Mother was worried people would discover my secret; it was hard enough keeping it as it was. Will already knew you see."

"Wasn't Will the sorcerer who saved my life in Ealdor?" he asked.

"Yeah, although he was no sorcerer, he was just protecting me."

He changed subject quickly, probably to avoid feelings of guilt and leaving Arthur very little time to consider what this meant for his feelings about Merlin's childhood friend.

"Gaius discovered I had magic before I had even introduced myself. He fell off a balcony in his chambers and I moved a bed underneath him to soften his fall," he smiled at the memory. "He was shocked to say the least; he had never heard of someone who could perform magic without words before.

"Not long after, I met you. And managed to get myself thrown in jail."

Darcie snorted.

"That's still one of my favourite stories," she said. "People would never believe that the great Emrys was stupid enough to get himself arrested on his second day in Camelot."

"Hey! You said what I did was brave, not stupid!" he protested, the grin on his face letting her know that he wasn't serious.

"No, I think it was stupid," Arthur chimed in. "And what's all this about the 'great Emrys'?"

"I'll come to that later," Merlin said. "Not so long after you so kindly dumped me in a cell I discovered that a dragon was being kept prisoner under the citadel: Kilgarrah, also known as the Great Dragon."

"The one that nearly destroyed the city?" he asked.

"Yeah, that one. He told me that I was destined to protect and guide you on your way to the throne and to use my powers to revive the Old Religion and help it coexist with the New Religion, although he was very cryptic about it; most of the time he was about as helpful as a blunt axe. One thing he was very clear on though was that your destiny was intertwined with mine and there was no escaping it.

"I was reluctant to embrace the truth at first; I still thought you were an arrogant and obnoxious prince –"

"Hey!"

"– Who needed someone to stand up to him. I only started to warm up to the idea after I'd saved your life a couple of times. The first time that happened was when Mary Collins tried to kill you."

"You remember her name?" he asked, surprised at Merlin's ability to recall the name of a woman he had only met briefly hundreds of years ago.

In truth, Arthur had never bothered to find out what she was called; it had hardly seemed necessary at the time.

Merlin took a moment before replying, "I always remember their names."

Before Arthur could even begin to ponder what that meant, the warlock continued with, "When she began to sing at the feast, she cast a spell on you, making everyone in the hall fall asleep; I was the only one left awake, so I made a chandelier fall on her –"

"That's certainly one way of doing it," the former king commented.

"Instinct, remember? I didn't know any spells at that point. Admittedly if the same thing happened again now, I would make sure it had a very different outcome."

Arthur nodded and when the glint of a knife flew through his mind's eye he prompted, "And then she threw the knife at me?"

"Yes, I slowed down time so I could pull you out of the way. And that's how I became your servant."

"So my father made you my manservant because you performed magic?" he laughed at the irony of it, causing Merlin and Darcie to join in. "If only he knew!"

"I feel like I've missed something good," came Morgana's – no, Lottie's, _Lottie's_ – voice from the door.

She entered fully dressed, towelling her hair dry, an expression of curiosity decorating her face.

"We were laughing about how ironic it is that Uther made Merlin Arthur's servant because he performed magic," Darcie explained.

"I'm guessing that this is about the chandelier?" she asked, throwing the towel over the back of the chair next to Arthur and sitting down. "I _thought_ that was you."

"Pancakes!" Darcie announced.

She let something from the pan slip on to a plate and brought it over to the table.

"You can try the first," she said to Arthur.

"Thank you," he said, smiling at her.

He examined the thing on his plate. It was large, flat and an appetising golden colour with a few brown spots here and there. It looked like it was supposed to be round, but it was a little misshapen around the edge.

"What do you want on it?" Darcie asked, heading over to a cupboard. "We usually have stuff like sugar and lemon juice or maple syrup. Which would you like?"

"Uh, can I try both?" he asked.

"Sure. Catch," she threw him a bottle of something and he caught it deftly.

"And this is…?"

"Maple syrup," Merlin replied. "Here."

He took the bottle from him and added a considerable amount of syrup to the pancake.

"So how do I eat it?" Arthur asked.

"Lottie can show you," Darcie said, setting a plate in front of said person and sliding another pancake onto it.

After sprinkling some sugar and pouring some liquid – which he presumed was lemon juice, though goodness knew what a lemon was – over it, Lottie started to wrap the pancake up, showing Arthur how to fold it so nothing would drip out of the end.

"So what is maple syrup?" he asked, picking the pastry up.

"Tree sap," Lottie replied.

He lowered the sap-filled pancake.

"Tree sap," he repeated.

"Yep," she said, taking a large bite of her own.

"You eat _tree sap_?!"

Chuckling, Merlin said, "Shall I continue? What do you want to hear about next?"

"I said everything," Arthur said, finally deciding to taste his breakfast.

Huh. It was actually quite nice.

"Everything? What, every little bit of magic I've ever performed? You do realise that it's kind of a daily thing for me, don't you?"

"Well just tell us about the important bits then."

"I think the tournament with Valiant was the next time any sorcery was involved with Camelot," Darcie prompted.

"I didn't have so much to do with that, I just performed an animation spell on his shield to reveal the snakes to everyone," he explained. "But do you remember that time your father became ill from that magical disease?" he asked Darcie.

"Yes," she replied.

"I was the one who healed him. I couldn't bear to see you suffer," he said.

"So you almost got her burned at the stake instead?!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Hey, I tried taking the blame myself! _You_ were the one who convinced everyone I was an idiot."

"An idiot in love," he corrected.

"I was not in love!"

"What's this?" Darcie asked.

"Anyway I helped you defeat the afanc. That giant gust of wind? Me. You're welcome," he turned to Lottie. "For a minute there I thought you had me, I thought you'd seen what I'd done."

Her eyes widened in realisation.

"When I said I'd keep your secret safe? Oh, so you thought I was talking about your magic and not you and Gwen!"

"Will someone explain this to me?" Darcie asked.

Grudgingly, Merlin replied, "Arthur and Morgana were both convinced I was in love with you … I wasn't."

"Are you sure?" Arthur teased.

"Yes, perfectly sure!" he snapped.

"I don't know, there might have been something between them," she leaned towards Arthur, making them a team against the other two. "Why don't you tell us what happened after Merlin had been poisoned?"

This last had been directed to Darcie.

"I refuse to," she said, blushing profusely.

Arthur's interest peaked considerably at this.

"If you won't, I will!" she teased.

"You wouldn't."

"What?" he asked.

"She kissed him!" Lottie sang.

Arthur's eyes widened.

"You did what?"

"I thought he was dead!" she protested.

"So you kissed him."

"It was after he woke up!" she amended quickly after realising what she had said sounded like.

"Returning to the story of how Arthur nearly died because of a flower …" Merlin cut in. "Tell it to us from your point of view. The bit in the cave."

"Well, I – hold on … You sent that light didn't you?"

A smile crept across the warlock's face and he said, "Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme. Fromum feohgiftum."

After his eyes burned golden for a second, a sphere of light appeared in his palm. It appeared to be a bubble with blue mist swirling in mysterious patterns inside it, lighting up its creators face.

"I sent this to guide your way through the caves. Apparently while I was unconscious from the poison, I was having visions of what was happening to you. I don't remember any of it, but Gaius says that I was talking aloud in my delirium, muttering words of the Old Religion," he explained.

Arthur looked in wonderment at the ball of light, reaching out a hand as though to touch it.

"I first thought Nimueh had sent it to finish me off," he said. "But after a while I realised it had been sent to guide my way. I suppose there were many more events like this that I should have noticed before; all those tree branches falling on bandits were far too convenient. The only reason I stayed alive for so long was because of your magic. You never got the recognition you deserved either, at least not from me."

"You know I don't want recognition, I never did."

"Still, I feel the need to say it more often. Thank you."

* * *

_What happens during the next several chapters isn't set in stone, so you can feel free to give suggestions. It could be a particular conversation the characters have or another character turning up, whatever. Ideas are welcome! And please review!_


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